


Displacing Responsibility

by 100dabbo



Series: Beautiful, Dirty, Rich [2]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Butt Plugs, Cigarettes, Daddy Issues, Daddy Kink, Deepthroating, Fast Cars, Flirting, Lollipops, Los Angeles, M/M, Stripper!RobertFischer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:06:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25232869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/100dabbo/pseuds/100dabbo
Summary: A month after his birthday, Eames still can't shake the thoughts of the night he met Robert. In a fortunate coincidence, the two find one another once more.
Relationships: Eames/Robert Fischer
Series: Beautiful, Dirty, Rich [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1820683
Comments: 6
Kudos: 22





	Displacing Responsibility

One month had passed since the best night of Eames’ life.

The memories of it were just as vivid as the experience itself: magenta lights and dark shadows, amorous music and a dancing body, pleasure exacted beyond his imagination.

As he walked down the street, briefcase in one hand and jacket in the other, he wasn’t able to shake the thoughts from his mind. That wink that he’d left him with as he left the club, the little gesture that it was, seemed imprinted in his mind, overshadowing the important responsibilities he had, the expectations people had of him in his day to day life.

He was in the heart of the city and was already late for a meeting, something that walking faster wouldn’t change, so despite the knowledge that Cobb, Arthur and Yusuf would be in a boardroom without him, probably stalling in front of their clients, he still walked at an unhurried pace, dawdling even, while the city passed him by; its cars and people, the skyscrapers and offices towering above, the ceaseless life and activity surrounding him in all its vivacity while he was already occupied with daydreams of that man.

It was almost like he was zoned out, cut off from the real world, not really appreciating the importance of where he needed to be and what he needed to do, only giving his time to a thought like what he would give to do it all over again.

But then his phone rang.

That obnoxious ringing continued for a few seconds before he sighed and pulled it out of his pocket, glancing at his screen to see that it was a call from Arthur. He was half expecting a call to come through from one of them as he made his way over there, but no matter how reluctant he was to receive it, he answered it, sitting on a bench instead of walking and talking.

“Hello, Arthur, am I safe to assume this isn’t a belated birthday call?” He chirped, reclining on the bench to feel the warm sun on his face as his eyes watched the cars and pedestrians pass him by.

“Eames, you know why I’m calling,” The man responded, his voice that shaky, timid tone that he was accustomed to in stressful situations, “Just tell us where you are right now, we need you here, we’ll send a fucking car if it’ll get you here faster.”

“As always, Arthur, your efforts never go unappreciated, but you needn’t send a car when I’m already on my way. In fact when you called I—“ 

He stopped himself mid-thought. 

His eyes caught sight of a car, its baby pink paint job not doing any favours to camouflaging it amongst the rest on the street. It was a Bentley, a luxury vehicle, certainly not one that he would even risk driving in the busy streets of downtown LA. It pulled up on the pavement right in front of him, the reflective hubcaps shining in the sun.

It was classy and elegant, even with its colour, but still not the type anyone should park on the pavement. With the top down, it’s driver could be seen, shades over his eyes and a lollipop in his mouth.

“I wondered if I’d ever see you again, Mr Eames.” Robert said with a smile, taking the cherry red candy out of his mouth, sucking on it with his soft lips to chase the flavour.

Naturally, Eames was very shocked, that similar emotion panging in his heart to what he felt as the man arrived at their booth at that club a month ago. 

His smile was the same, his attitude was the same, and, as he lifted the glasses from his eyes and pushed them up to rest on his hair, he could see that his eyes were the same too. Beautiful enough to get lost in, and in his dreams, he almost always would.

Eames couldn’t get a word out, still holding the phone to his ear as Arthur begged for him to either finish his sentence or get himself moving, but all he did was stand from the bench and walk to the car, looking down at Robert with a smile of his own.

His eyes studied the scene; the _car_ , the _sunglasses_ , the _shirt_. 

The same silk shirt from last month was draped over his body, loosely buttoned up half-way for that deep v to give a view of that smooth chest. The chain was also still there, glinting silver in the sunlight.

“Look, Arthur, um, something’s come up…” He mumbled down the phone, seeing Robert’s smile as he heard him talk. Arthur gave one last plea,

“What? You said you were on your way, what are you—”

Eames hung up the phone without even taking his eyes away from the man in front of him. He put his hand on the car door, glancing down to see that Robert had exchanged those tight trousers for some breezy shorts of the same material as his shirt. Certainly not a change Eames was going to complain about.

Robert passed the half-finished lollipop to him after giving it one last lick with his tongue, asking,

“You wouldn’t mind putting this in a trash can, would you?”

“You pulled up just to ask a stranger to do that for you?” Eames asked with a chuckle, obliging to the request and tossing it into the nearest bin. Robert kept smiling, even wider than Eames was, possibly more happy that they were seeing each other again than he could ever have been.

“I’d hardly call you a stranger, Mr Eames…”

_Mr Eames._

That’s what he’d call him in his dreams, when he’d lay his head down on his pillow at night, blocking out the loud traffic blaring from below his apartment building to focus on the sweetness of that smooth voice and the shine of those blue eyes in his mind.

He had him right in front of him, and despite the rehearsals, despite the never-ending thoughts in his head of how he’d react if he were ever to see him again, he was speechless.

Lucky for him, Robert spoke so that he didn’t have to.

“Get in.”

How could Eames refuse that? He was already late for the meeting, after all.

“Is this your car?” He asked as he threw his jacket and briefcase into the backseat. It wasn’t a question asked out of disbelief, because he was confident the car had ‘Robert’ written all over it, but only just out of exclamation, being impressed that he’d have such a valuable commodity.

“It’d hardly be my father’s now, would it?” Robert laughed as his eyes followed Eames, walking around to sit down into the passenger seat. He adjusted his tie as he settled down, the summer warmth seeing to it that he was overheating slightly, and the other man laughed again at his discomfort to the warmth, turning on the AC. “When I start driving, you won’t be as hot,” He said as he adjusted the gear stick to reverse, “Well, temperature wise, anyway.”

Before Eames could respond, he pulled the car off the pavement and got it back on the road, fixing his sunglasses back on his face and draping his hands over the wheel, smirking contentedly. “So, Mr Eames, what is it you do?” He asked, smoothing his hands across the leather, gripping tightly to it as he made a U-turn.

“I work for a firm, it’s boring and I’m sure it’s nothing that would impress you.” He replied with a small laugh, assuming that when Robert had noted the suit jacket and briefcase that he’d tossed into the back seats, he would want to get a picture of how mundane his life was compared to his own.

“That’s interesting.” Robert smirked, changing gear again, tapping one of his rings against the metal gear stick.

“I didn’t tell you anything…”

“No, I mean it’s interesting that you don’t wanna talk about yourself,” He pulled his glasses down onto the tip of his nose to look over the rims, “Every man that’s even been in that seat couldn’t _wait_ to start talking about themselves the second I asked. I guess you’re different.”

“Or, like I said, it’s nothing that’d impress you.”

Robert giggled again, his flirtatious tone like music, and he wet his lips with a slow swipe of his tongue. Eames reclined in his seat as he listened to it, spreading his legs out into the generous room of the Bentley’s passenger seat. 

He let his eyes drift out of the car, they’d reached the highway and were already out of the downtown area, so any chances of getting to the meeting now were pointless and so relaxing was at the top of his to-do list.

And, as he did, loving the warm Californian sun come down on his hair, the wind blow through it as the car sped on the road, Robert’s hand slipped onto his thigh,

“That’s not to say I’m not interested, of course!” He said, his playful grin stretching his lips the second he drew the hand back to touch at his chain. The touch absorbed all of Eames’ attention, and he made sure not to let it fall away from the other man for a second. “Would you like music?” Robert asked, offering him a side glance with the easy change of subject, nipping his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Of course,” Eames replied, casually resting his arm on the car door, “Where do you keep the CDs?”

The other man laughed at him again, lifting a hand to play with his chain once more,

“My phone’s in the glovebox, get me a cigarette while you’re in there.”

So, Eames leant forward to open it up, drawing out both his phone and the cigarettes, unsurprised to find pink Marlboros beside more lollipops.

“I should hope these are low tar…” Eames said as he drew one of them out from the packet, offering it for him to take and light himself, but Robert only turned his head, keeping his eyes fixed on the road as he parted his lips.

God, if this image wasn’t already in his fantasies, is was about to become as frequent as him saying _‘Daddy’_ , those soft lips opening without a care in the world, his pink tongue lying in his mouth and trailing across his bottom teeth, shining wet with saliva.

Eames put the filter’s end onto the centre of his glossed lips, letting them close around it while the man slipped his hand into the pocket of his shorts to fish out his Zippo, which he passed to Eames for him to light the tip.

As he passed it to him, their fingers brushed, and the weight of the metal lighter was transferred to his palm. His fingertips traced the engraving before he flicked the flint and the spark ignited into flame, an orange flicker that danced in the wind as it was held up to light the end of the cigarette.

Robert took his first drag and smirked, holding his hand out for the phone to be passed to him.

Eames thought he’d never seen someone inhale so gracefully, and it wasn’t just his lips and the way they closed around the filter and pursed to blow out the smoke, it was _everything_ about the image itself; the poise of his hand as it held onto the pink stick, tapping the ash into the wind without care, the crane of his neck while he took it in, the blink of dark eyelashes as the smoke veiled over his face.

It was ethereal, enrapturing, and beautiful, and never before had Eames believed that cigarettes could be any such thing. 

“You sound like my father the way you say that.” He giggled, glancing down at the screen to choose an album, “He smokes too, that why he got the lighter for me, but he can’t help being some how holier than me at everything.” He rested his hands back on the steering wheel after selecting his favourite and the melody began to play.

What little information Eames knew about Robert was still something, and every piece he gradually revealed was interesting to him. He could have guessed he had an troubled relationship with his father, that much was evident from his attitude and lifestyle alone, knowing that any father who was remotely uncaring wouldn’t approve of such activities, though when his eyes glanced back down to the lighter, it became even clearer.

_“Listen, my son, to your father’s instruction.” – Proverbs 1:8"_

Even the ornate designs of swirling flowers and vines that had been etched around the words wouldn’t quite soften that.

Eames opened his mouth to say something, but Robert only laughed at the realisation he’d read it, taking another small draw on the cigarette,

“You wanna know something? That’s not even the full quote. He cut off the end. Something to do with mothers, and he just left it out.” He said, tapping his fingertips on the steering wheel to the rhythm, seeming surprisingly upbeat despite the topic of conversation. Though, Eames supposed he must have come to terms with this if he was so confident in his day to day life, since confidence definitely wasn’t something he had a shortage of.

They reached a stop light and that was proven to him beyond a doubt as he began to sing the lyrics to the song that was coming out of the car’s speakers; crude, but unmistakably erotic, chanting along as he tapped his rings on the wheel and shook his shoulders to the beat, intermittently sucking on the cigarette until it was finished and he could throw out the stub.

He didn’t care about what the other drivers around him thought, and that made Eames all the more happy to be next to him; he was bold, beautiful, and free-spirited – What was not to like?

He revved the engine, pressing his foot down on the clutch as he laughed, clearly enjoying himself, and the car shook and jolted on its suspension until the light turned green and he sped it back up, throwing his head back onto the headrest. He overtook the other cars without a care in the world, the soft silk of his shirt billowing in the warm breeze.

“I haven’t even asked you where we’re going!” Eames exclaimed, raising his eyebrows as if in shock at himself for being so carried away with him.

In his defence, it wasn’t easy not to be, and after a whole month of willing something like this to happen, asking questions wasn’t exactly his priority. Robert responded, but only after humming the tune of his song for a few more seconds,

“You’ll see, Mr Eames, and I’m sure you won’t be disappointed…”

Five minutes later and Robert pulled up to their destination, the grand estate owned by his father.

“Fuck, you really are rich, aren’t you?” Eames said as he parked up in the garage, slamming the door shut and locking it with the click of his car key. 

With a swish of his hair and the removal of his sunglasses, he looked at Eames with his enchanting eyes using that same smouldering look,

“ _Oh, filthy, darling…_ ” He said, a cute attempt at a British accent to make Eames laugh, which he did, slipping a hand into his pocket. “Follow me, I’ll give you a tour if you like…”

“Lead the way…” Eames said, handing him back his lighter. Robert took it straight away to drop it into the pocket of his shorts, ensuring their fingertips touched again at the exchange, smirking as he turned around to lead him into the house.

The door from the garage led into the main corridor of the house, the large staircases flanking each side leading up to the first floor leaving Eames in awe.

“Before you say anything, I will confirm that this is indeed my _father’s_ house and that he is a very wealthy man.” Robert said, leading him through to the kitchen, which was even bigger than Eames could have imagined. 

He perched himself on one of the counters, swinging his legs dangling off the side. “Can I get you anything before we begin?”

 _That_ caught Eames off guard, enough so to snap his attention away from the Beverly Hills view out of the window and back onto the other man, whose eternal smirk was curling the side of his lip.

“Begin what?” He laughed nervously, re-tightening his tie to collect himself just a little, even if the house was just as warm as outside.

“The tour…” Robert whispered, hopping off the side to open the refrigerator, “I’m having a margarita, you want one?”

“Well, it’s only 11am, so, of course.” Eames replied, leaning back onto the counter as he watched Robert make them, haphazardly pouring the quantities of alcohol to juice and finishing it off with a cube of ice.

He passed one to Eames, clinking them together for a ‘cheers’ before he downed his in one, giving him a wink that had Eames nearly choking on his own sip.

Eames let him lead the way as he put his empty glass down, grabbing onto his hand and taking him back to the foyer and those stairs, the chandelier above glittering diamonds of light onto the walls.

So, just like the club, their first meeting, Eames allowed himself be escorted wherever Robert was taking him, and although there were no harsh lights or loud noise to overwhelm him, the same feeling of excitement coursed through his veins, even if nothing was confirmed as to _why_ the man had brought him to his mansion in the centre of the Hollywood hills.

When they reached the upper floor, Robert let go, allowing him to follow at his own pace. He was deeply enthusiastic about it, but he still had questions, and if anything, they made him all the more keen to follow around as he asked them.

“You said this is your dad’s place?” Eames asked for confirmation, peaking his head into each room that Robert opened the doors to, and when he nodded, he furthered the enquiry, “He won’t be unnerved by the idea of a stranger snooping around his home, then?”

Robert giggled at him again and slipped his hands into his pockets,

“He’s not here, obviously,” He began, leading the unknowing Eames closer and closer to his own room, “And if he was here, you’re right, he probably wouldn’t appreciate it, but he doesn’t know, so you’re good.”

“Where is he?”

“Some business trip, I don’t know. I stay out of his life and he stays out of mine, that’s sorta how we operate.” He explained it as vaguely as possible, his hand toying with the lighter in his pocket, rubbing his thumb against its engraving, “So, with that comes with the fact that I’m not allowed guests over, well, _male_ guests, if you catch my drift.” He still smirked, stopping just short of the corridor that led to his room. 

“So then, it seems we’re breaking some of the rules by me being here, doesn’t it?” Eames laughed, finishing off his drink.

Robert took the glass from him and hummed as if the concept hadn’t even crossed his mind, his skipping steps close to giving away his enthusiasm for what he wanted to do once they reached the bedroom. And as Eames noticed the excitement, he couldn’t help himself as he leched at that gorgeous arse inside those shorts, the silk fitting to his curve perfectly.

He swiped his tongue across his lips and Robert opened the door.

The first thing that Eames felt was arousal as he stepped into the room, immediately seeing the same magenta lighting inside of it, just as their private room had been that night, and so by association, couldn’t help but feel his blood go south.

Then, there was the bed, a king size in the centre of the back wall, its four posters draped with curtains and more lights of the same colour, Robert walking right past him to sit on its edge, stroking his hands across the sheets.

Eames didn’t need to be told that Robert wanted him to walk over to the bed, and so he took the time to shut the door behind him beforehand, slipping his hands into his pockets to occupy them as his eyes watched Robert backing further onto the mattress, resting amongst his pillows.

“Tell me why your dad won’t allow guests.” Eames said, observing the way the other man’s tongue escaped past his teeth at the command, trailing across his upper lip. He knelt on the mattress and smiled.

“To cut a long story short, Mr Eames, I’ll tell you that being caught in the act by your own father doesn’t exactly make you the most popular person in the house, and it has consequences of its own…” He smirked as he said it, like he didn’t regret it, or he was indifferent to the embarrassment it would have caused him, “ _’I’ll have no-one sodomising my own son under this roof!’_ was what he said to me!” And he giggled, tracing through his hair casually.

“So then, I suppose I’m a lucky man that he’s not here…”

“Oh, Mr Eames, more lucky than you’ll ever know,” His tone was sultry, turned on so easily with a simple switch in his demeanour, and although he was always flirtatious and risqué with his attitude, that was a different level, something willingly sensual and designed with a perfect quality for Eames to assume what all this was about.

As soon as he pulled up on the curb he should have realised; the excellent coincidence that it was was hardly bound to end in a platonic goodbye. 

Eames began to loosen his tie, looking down with a predatory glare at the man sprawled across his own bed, his smooth legs slipping in the sheets of silk as he spread himself back out. He pulled it out from around his neck and dumped it on the floor, immediately starting to undress with the top buttons of his shirt.

“Now, Mr Eames, how the tables have turned…” Robert joked, sitting up to watch as his body was gradually uncovered; the only part of him he’d been exposed to was his cock, and while that was magnificent on its own, the prospect of seeing _all_ of him was what excited him the most.

His hands moved to his own shirt and quickly unfastened the few that had been done up, and he flashed his chest while Eames put his shirt where his belt was, kicking the shoes from his feet.

“I want you on your knees.” Eames said, Robert not hesitating for a second after he heard it to slide off of the bed, kneeling with one hand over the other. 

There was innocence in his gaze, as there always was, and with his eyelashes batting gently, his glossed lip being pinched between his teeth, his eyes looked up, filled with anticipation. 

It seemed the situation had escalated quickly, from the street to the car to the bedroom all in less than an hour, but the both of them knew they needed it, and the both of them also knew that it was going to be one of the best choices they’d ever make.

“Is your big cock gonna go all the way down my throat, Daddy?” 

If the sights weren’t enough to get Eames hard, _that_ was going to do the job for it.

“If you’re a good boy for me, yeah.” Was all Eames could manage without groaning, unfastening the front and taking his dick out.

Robert took it with his palm the moment it was exposed, ready to get it in his mouth as soon as possible, 

“Please, please will you let me suck it, Daddy?” He asked, stroking it up and down with steady cadence, Eames smiling and nodding, bringing a hand to his nape to encourage him forward.

But, Robert needed very little encouragement for what he already intended to do, and without another sound, he wrapped his pillowy lips around the head, leaning forward with the arch of his back to push it in deeper, moaning while it sat heavy on his tongue.

And, oh, how Eames had missed that mouth. It’d been on him for less than fifteen minutes over thirty days ago, and yet he’d yearned for it more than anything in the world, and now that it had returned to him, arguably doing what it did best, he couldn’t help his moan, sinking his fingers into the locks on Robert’s head to get a steady grip and push him down on it.

That jaw slackened to take it in, his eyes closing in concentration, his earnest effort to open that throat a pleasure Eames was all too happy to experience, and a buck of his hips wasn’t able to be controlled, hitting the head of his cock into the very back of mouth to elicit a wonderous gag that had the man spluttering all over him.

He collected his breath, ensuring there was still friction on him as he stroked with his hand, glossy lips shining with the spit.

“How about we get on the bed?” Eames suggested with a stroke of Robert’s hair, the man on his knees nodding while he kicked the trousers from his legs off and got onto the mattress.

He reclined himself onto the pillows, appreciating the smooth silk on his bare skin as Robert advanced with him, slipping himself onto his stomach to get back between Eames’ thighs and smooth his palms over his legs, his mouth dutifully returned to his cock.

With purposeful sloppiness, he poked it into his cheek, his wide eyes staring into Eames while saliva dripped from his open mouth and down his chin, falling in a string onto the sheets. 

“Fuck, Bobby, you really know how to use that thing, don’t you?”

Robert nodded around him, humming to amplify the pleasure, and Eames just closed his eyes and let his head fall back to appreciate the wet motions of his togue and the hollowing of his cheeks, his effort when lapping across the slit, getting a taste of the pre-ejaculate leaking out and smiling around him at the taste.

Sooner or later, however, Robert realised that Eames would finish if he continued for much longer, and while he loved it last time, the hot stream coating his tongue for him to swallow down as the climax washed over the man’s body, he had brought him to his home for more than just sucking him off. 

He wanted to be fucked.

He popped his mouth off of him, crawling up his body and letting his hands roam across his bare chest, fingers lacing through the hairs, legs straddling his lap, grinding his half-masted cock against the man’s stomach, still confined in his shorts.

“Are you going to fuck me, Daddy?” He asked, leaning in to kiss him with his lips, still slicked with hot saliva.

Eames nodded into it, latching his lips onto him for a deeper kiss, darting his tongue out while his hands grasped to his slim waist, rolling them both over to push him down onto his back and loom above him.

He felt those soft lips smile against him, and while his hands moved to pull down the shorts, he detached himself from the man’s mouth to see with his own eyes what he had in store. What he saw did not disappoint.

The waistband’s tight elastic hugged onto his waist, but what was even tighter was the sheer material’s hold on Robert’s little cock, pressing it towards the junction of his thigh and groin, its leaking tip providing a nice wet patch as evidence for his arousal.

Eames passed his palm across it, much like he was permitted to do in their first encounter, and then he pulled them down, freeing it to put his mouth onto it straight away, swallowing it whole, Robert writhing beneath him.

It wasn’t for long, but for the moments that Eames was using his mouth on him, Robert was squealing with pleasure, gaining more volume when an unexpected finger pressed against his rim and made an entrance, curling around his insides with purpose.

“Oh, Daddy!” He sighed as a second one came in, scissoring with deft movements to get him open as quick as possible before Eames took his mouth away and slipped the fingers out.

Robert knew what was needed next, and so he bent over to find his lubricant in the bedside drawer, passing to him for him to start slicking his cock up.

“Are you ready, Bobby?” Eames asked as he jerked himself with it, preparing to push it inside of him the moment Robert said yes.

“Of course…” He whispered back, linking his arms around Eames’ neck, looking up with his lust blown eyes.

Eames didn’t take the first strokes slow, and instead slammed himself right in, pushing himself to the hilt in one drive that saw to Robert’s first pleasured moans,

“ _Oh, fuck me, Daddy!_ ” He squealed as Eames began to pick up the pace, touching his little cock with short jerks of his wrist, biting his soft lip to limit his obscenities.

The silk slipped against his smooth legs as his body squirmed beneath the other man, his mouth pressed onto his neck, one of his hands pushing down on his chest and toying with his nipple while the other held onto his hair.

“God, Robert, I wanted to fuck you the very second I saw you…” Eames confessed, groaning against him while his hips rocked in a perfect rhythm in and out, the head of his cock reaching his prostate, getting the leverage to push deeper and provide that exquisite sensation Robert was craving.

He moaned to him as he felt it, the words arousing him all the more, his high-pitched noises even better that what Eames could have dreamed of; beautiful little whimpers of pleasure expressing his insatiable longing for release.

“Fuck me better than anyone else, Daddy! I’m all yours!” He wailed, wrapping his legs around the man’s hips as he continued with all his passion, the possessive grip on his body getting tighter as he neared his release.

But, it was all too perfect for it to be finished in a climax so quickly. How many times had he imagined this moment in his head? How many times had he been fucking him in his dreams to have it all surmount to this point in time that was just bliss beyond explanation?

To think he could have been destined for that boardroom meeting with the other men, some boring business clients, instead of laying himself between this man’s legs and fucking him into his own mattress surrounded by luxury and silk…

He was thankful to say the least, the grip of Robert’s tight, slicked hole around him, clenching with each moan that sent him closer to his finish, the intimate smell of exertion, sweat and sex on their bodies as they rocked together for synchronised pleasure, and the delectable sounds each of them released in response.

“Come inside me, Daddy, please, I want you to fill me up!” Robert begged, panting and gripping onto him with desperation, still stroking himself with rapid jerks of his wrist, his own fist tight around himself as pre-come smeared over his palm.

“Be a good boy and finish first, come on, Bobby, you can do it…” Eames instructed, lifting himself up to watch it, spreading the man’s legs even wider.

He spilled across himself a moment later, groaning and panting, eyelashes fluttering, struggling to keep his eyes focused on Eames above him who watched with delight, immediately providing him with praise,

“Good boy, Bobby, you’re so good for Daddy, I’m so proud of you…”

Robert was too flooded with the rush of his orgasm and the wave of his afterglow to say anything in reply, not-so-silently anticipating Eames’ finish as he continued to whine through his thrusts.

“We wouldn’t want to ruin these lovely sheets, would we, hm?” Eames slurred as he pressed his mouth back onto his neck, rocking back and forth, Robert shaking his head. “So, I’m going to finish inside, and that’s what you want?” 

“Yes, Daddy!”

Eames pressed himself as deep as he could go inside of him to release his spoils, muffling his orgasm against Robert’s neck, sucking on the pale skin and gently nipping it between his teeth.

He stayed inside for a while, heaving his laboured breaths until he tenderly pulled out, flopping down beside him on the mattress. He raised his wrist to look at his watch; the meeting would already be over. He smiled.

Robert draped his arm over his chest, his hand landing on his shoulder, smiling wide as his eyes closed shut in relaxation.

It was a beautiful moment, one that he wished could last forever even, just linger on to the end of time in all its perfection, but Eames knew that even if the meeting was over, he’d have to find out what happened there without him.

“I hate to say it, but I have to go, I’m sorry…” He said, easing himself out of Robert’s arms and standing to get his clothes.

“Don’t apologise, Mr Eames, we’ve had a fantastic time…” Robert replied, stretching over to his bedside draws to put his lubricant back, picking out a plug while he was there and slipping it inside of himself to stop up Eames’ release.

That action alone made Eames want to just say ‘fuck it.’ and go for round two, but he knew he’d still have to leave at some point.

As he pulled his suit back on, Robert got himself redressed too, crawling to the edge of the bed to ask him,

“Do you have a business card?”

He laughed at that, reaching into pocket to procure one, handing it over between two fingers. Robert took it and studied it for a second, “And a pen?”

“Because I’ll call you first?” Eames guessed while he took one out, passing it over to let him write his number of his _own_ business card.

“Of course you will, because you know this can’t be the last time we see each other, don’t you?”

Eames nodded, taking back the card as he checked his phone.

_Arthur: 10 missed calls._  
_Cobb: 7 missed calls._  
_Yusuf: 6 missed calls._

“I really have to get going, is there any chance you could drive me back into the city?” 

“Of course, Mr Eames, I’d be delighted to…”

Half an hour later, they were back on the same street that Robert had picked him up on, and he took his briefcase and jacket from the backseat, sighing as he shut the car door..

“I hope to be hearing from you, Mr Eames,” Robert said as he took a lollipop from the glove compartment, “Don’t be a stranger….” He put it in his mouth and winked, pulling back onto the road before Eames could even reply, say his thank you, or kiss him on the lips one last time.

Though, with the card in his pocket, he supposed it wouldn’t have been their last time anyway.

He smiled, adjusted his tie to straighten it all out, and set himself back on the journey to the office.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading :) This was a really long one, so thank you if you got all the way through it ♥  
> Check me out on [Tumblr](https://100dabbo.tumblr.com/)!


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